The party. The drinks. The text.  

His stomach churned as fragments of the night came back to him—the rooftop, the glowing pool, Dante catching him before he fell. And then… nothing.  

“Ugh,” Ethan muttered, sitting up slowly. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and his head was spinning. He reached for the glass of water on his nightstand, downing it in one go.  

His phone buzzed on the bedside table, and he picked it up, squinting at the screen. It was a text from Daniel, their supervisor at the internship:  

Daniel:Film location for the campaign shoot: 245 Westwood Ave. Be there by 10 a.m.*  

Ethan groaned again, checking the time. It was already 9:15.  

He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, the hot water helping to clear some of the fog in his mind. As he got dressed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had happened last night—something he was missing.

As they drove to the film location, Ethan tried to piece together the events of the previous night. He glanced at Dante, who was focused on the road, his jaw set in that infuriatingly calm way of his.  

“So,” Ethan said, breaking the silence. “What happened last night? I remember the party, but after that… it’s kind of a blur.”  

Dante glanced at him, his expression neutral. “You had a bit too much to drink. I brought you home.”  

Ethan frowned. “That’s it? Nothing else happened?”  

Dante hesitated, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Nothing you need to worry about.”  

Ethan opened his mouth to press further, but before he could, his favorite song came on the radio—"Sweet Relief' by Madi Gaer. The opening notes filled the car, and Ethan couldn’t help but smile.  

“I love this song,” he said, turning up the volume.  

Dante raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as Ethan started singing along, his voice slightly off-key but full of enthusiasm.  

“Please leave, Godspeed, I can’t be around you right now, don’t speak…”  

Dante smirked, glancing at Ethan. “You know, you’re not exactly winning any singing competitions with that performance.”  

Ethan shot him a glare but kept singing, his tone teasing. “it’s so reckless of me but this feeling is deeply profound…”  

Dante chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Let me show you how it’s done.”  

Ethan raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You? Sing? This I’ve got to hear.”  

Dante cleared his throat, his voice low and surprisingly smooth as he joined in. *“All I need is sweet relief, it’s just something only we know…”

Ethan’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? How are you so good at this?”  

Dante shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I have hidden talents.” 

Ethan laughed, the sound genuine and carefree. “Okay, okay. You win this round.”

When they arrived at the film location, Ethan was still humming "Sweet Relief" under his breath. The set was bustling with activity—cameras, lights, and a crew of people moving with purpose. A group of models stood off to the side, their striking features and confident poses drawing attention.  As Ethan scanned the crowd, his eyes landed on a familiar face. It was the man from the party—the one who had been watching him from the edge of the rooftop. Ethan’s stomach tightened as their eyes met, and for a moment, he felt a flicker of unease.  The man smiled, his expression warm and inviting, and started walking toward Ethan. He was tall and handsome, with sharp features and a confident stride.  

“Hey,” the man said, his voice smooth and slightly flirtatious. “You must be Ethan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”  

Ethan blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. That’s me. And you are…?”  

The man extended his hand, his smile widening. “Lucas. I’m one of the models for the campaign. It’s great to finally meet you.”  

Ethan shook his hand, his mind racing. There was something about Lucas—his confidence, his charm—that made Ethan feel both intrigued and uneasy.  

“Nice to meet you too,” Ethan said, his tone polite but distant.  

Lucas tilted his head, his gaze lingering on Ethan. “So, what’s the plan for today? I’m looking forward to working with you. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun.”  

Ethan forced a smile, though his stomach was in knots. “Yeah, me too. But let’s keep it professional, okay? We’ve got a lot to get done.”  

Lucas chuckled, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Professional, huh? I like that. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have a good time.”  

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Daniel walked over, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.  

“Alright, everyone, let’s get started!” Daniel said, his tone brisk and businesslike. “We’ve got a lot to cover today, so let’s make every minute count.”  

Lucas shot Ethan a wink before walking over to join the other models, his movements smooth and confident.  

Ethan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He glanced over at Dante, who was standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on Lucas.  

“You okay?” Dante asked, his tone neutral but his gaze sharp.  

Ethan nodded, though his mind was still racing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.”  

Dante didn’t respond, but his eyes lingered on Lucas for a moment longer before he turned back to Ethan.  

“Stay focused,” Dante said, his tone low. “And if anything feels off, let me know.”  

Ethan nodded, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.  

The morning passed in a blur of activity. The crew worked tirelessly to set up each shot, adjusting lights, cameras, and props to perfection. The models, including Lucas, moved effortlessly in front of the lens, their poses and expressions capturing the essence of "Luxe Noir".  Ethan was in his element, coordinating with the team and offering creative input where he could. Despite the lingering unease from his encounter with Lucas, he managed to stay focused, determined to prove himself on this project.  Dante, meanwhile, kept a watchful eye on Ethan from a distance. His presence was subtle but unmistakable, his sharp gaze scanning the set for any potential threats.  By midday, the team took a break. The models retreated to their trailers, while the crew grabbed snacks and drinks from the catering table. Ethan stayed behind, helping to set up for the next scene.  

“Ethan, can you adjust the light on the left?” Daniel called out, pointing to a tall ladder near the edge of the set.  

“On it,” Ethan said, grabbing a wrench and heading over to the ladder.  

Dante watched as Ethan climbed the ladder, his movements steady but his focus entirely on the task at hand. The light fixture was heavy, and Ethan had to stretch to reach it, his balance precarious. 

As Ethan adjusted the light, the ladder wobbled slightly under his weight. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he felt the ladder begin to tilt.  

“Ethan!” someone shouted, but it was too late.  

The ladder tipped, and Ethan’s stomach dropped as he lost his balance. He braced himself for the impact, but instead of hitting the ground, he felt strong arms catch him mid-fall.  The world spun for a moment as Ethan was set back on his feet, his heart pounding. He looked up, his breath catching as he realized who had caught him.